you're fragments of a dream and reality
by Loud Mucker Complex
Summary: Kise is there to live with the aftermath, to make sure that Kuroko wakes up from the dreams where he prefers to live in. AU


**A/N:** Inspired by a Made in Heights - Murakami, although it isn't really fitting as a soundtrack. Super genius lyrics, though. Unbeta'd.

* * *

 **[** _ **Tetsuya**_ **]**

It is when he sees Kise-kun that Tetsuya knows he's facing reality. And there's barely any color in the world where he isn't asleep; the crumpled sheets around him and under Kise-kun's lax body, the ceiling above him, the walls, the furniture, all of them white or grey or colorless. The only source of everything vibrant is Kise-kun and his blond hair and whatever designer clothes he's decided to wear today. And sometimes the sunshine is there when Kise-kun comes in the mornings, but it rarely happens. Still, Kise-kun doesn't bring the colors in his dreams with him, so Tetsuya knows he isn't asleep.

Every time he wakes with Kise-kun in his vision Tetsuya never closes his eyes again, doesn't go back chasing and gambling for a dream too real it's like a beautified memory. Too real, too close to what he wants. Every time he finds Kise-kun asleep on either the bleak grey couch on the corner of his just as bleak room or on the wide space on his bed that Tetsuya isn't already occupying, Tetsuya gets up, slowly and silently, and sits in front of his overheating computer to desperately try to put crimson red and midnight blue and wide smiles and warm bodies into words. Sometimes it's all of those covered in blood red—so many of it—blood and sirens and the smell of burning tires on hard, baked asphalt. Bodies kept warm only because they're under the sun. Tetsuya still writes them down. He writes anything down.

Tetsuya never knows how much time it takes, every time, for Kise-kun to set warm palms on any place where his skin is exposed. Sometimes it's the curved nape of his neck, and the muscles there will jump but it takes a palm over his eyes and the back of his hand to stop Tetsuya's fingers from rapidly moving on the keyboard. And sometimes it's a kiss on the crown of his head, or his eyelids, or his cheek or his lips. The kisses on his lips are always wet and salty and Tetsuya reaches up, always, because Kise-kun is _warm_. Even though Tetsuya doesn't keep track of how many words and pages he's written until Kise-kun stands behind his chair, Kise-kun will always touch him and help him, every time, to stand and put a foot in front of the other.

With Kise-kun comes many concrete feelings his dreams fail to convey. When Tetsuya is living the life he wants in his head, things other than colors are fleeting phantoms that feels laughable compared to what Kise-kun gives him. Warmth is fleeting. Smells of musk on tanned skin and delicious, gorgeous fried vegetables are fleeting. However fleeting they are, Tetsuya still prefers them, because then, pain is fleeting, too.

Often Tetsuya remembers the coldness of the bathroom tiles, followed by the contrast heat from the pouring water over his head. It is often the coldness of the toilet bowl, the porcelain sink and damp mirror. But Kise-kun is omnipresent, and so is his hands, and voice, always, always trying to keep Tetsuya grounded, trying to keep him awake. And then there are dry towels sucking water off his soaked skin, Kise-kun's long feet and their perfect toes. Artificial hot wind in his hair, repeated brushing movements and finally fabrics are back on his frame.

Strong, real aroma of freshly cooked food, Kise-kun putting a tool in Tetsuya's hand for him to transfer the content of the bowl into his mouth. Tetsuya eats when Kise-kun is there. Kise-kun sometimes sits close to him on the floor, sometimes he's up and around this place where Tetsuya lives. Sometimes when eating becomes too much for him— _no, Kise-kun, I can't eat all of this, Kagami-kun would—Kagami-kun is—and Aomine-kun—_ Kise-kun makes him drink soup, or something liquid, sometimes— _Here, Kurokocchi, your favorite drink_ —sometimes it's sweet and cool and Tetsuya cries as he drinks and _remembers_.

After, Kise-kun will sit with him on the balcony floor that demands them huddled together, behind the glass doors when the sky cries or sprinkles cold snow, and Kise-kun will talk as Tetsuya stares into whatever state of the sky they manage to catch at the time. Kise-kun will talk and touch him and hug him close, filling his subconscious with fragments of reality that a part of Tetsuya holds close.

Kise-kun is the only part of Tetsuya's reality that doesn't hurt. Tetsuya remembers that, every time, before he goes back meeting with the people in his memories again, so that he has a reason to wake up.

* * *

 **[** _ **Ryouta**_ **]**

Ryouta knows that Kurokocchi prefers to live in his sleep. Ryouta knows that if it isn't for his daily visit Kurokocchi won't even make an attempt on waking up. Ryouta knows that he's all Kurokocchi has now. Ryouta has wanted to be the only reason Kurokocchi lives, to be the most important thing, but Ryouta doesn't want it when it costs two precious lives too young to be gone.

When Ryouta converses with himself, inside his constantly stagnant mind, he always try to think of a better way to explain what has happened with his life, Kurokocchi's life, _their_ lives. When Ryouta says he only loses Aominecchi, it doesn't mean the same like when he says he only loses a hundred yen for that pack of supplement. When Ryouta says he only loses Aominecchi doesn't mean he doesn't have a Kagamicchi-shaped hole in his chest. When Ryouta says he only loses Aominecchi, he isn't talking about himself; Ryouta is an inconsequential part of the whole context. When Ryouta says he only loses Aominecchi, and Kagamicchi, he means that Kurokocchi has it worse.

Kurokocchi loses his past, present, and future.

Ryouta was in the car with them. It was supposed to be a sweet summer for them. It was supposed to be a celebratory trip for each and every one of their achievements; Ryouta and his thriving modeling career, Kurokocchi and his second best-selling novel, Aominecchi and promotion and his cigarette abandonment, Kagamicchi and his own brand-new family restaurant. It was joyful and musical and glowing and Ryouta was in love all over again—with his friends, his life and their lives, with the nostalgic feeling of watching Kurokocchi looking on at the two people on the front seats with that special and reserved glimmer in his eyes. Ryouta was so in love with everything, _content_ , but just as Kurokocchi was about to say something—something that now Ryouta will never, ever know—suddenly it was chaos and darkness surrounding him.

Ryouta wasn't awake to witness with Kurokocchi everything drown in blood and cloying summer heat.

Ryouta wasn't there to witness his life evaporate and escape his grip in thick, red blood.

When Ryouta's head was finally able to process things and keep them, his memories were of funerals and countless faces unknown to him, with tears known and ever-present on Ryouta's still pale face. Kurokocchi never saw frozen, similar, cocky smiles captured on framed photographs, lit red sticks of incense and endless people clad in black. Kurokocchi spent that day Ryouta still has problems believing on a hospital bed held down by beeping machines and heavy, drugged sleep. Ryouta was there just to witness the aftermath.

Ryouta is still here to witness the aftermath.

Ryouta knew something was wrong with Kurokocchi. There must be something wrong with him. Something must have changed. He didn't hope for it, he didn't want it, but it was a truth he couldn't (can't) escape. Somehow, Kurokocchi was released from the hospital, with arranged appointments to see a psychiatrist. Kurokocchi walked beside him to exit the hospital, unblemished save for the wounds from where the car interior cuts into him. At first his eyes were tired but vibrant, there was life in it that gave Ryouta high hopes, but then Kurokocchi stood in front of their graves unmoving—almost not breathing—and since then Kurokocchi finds sleep more satisfactory than reality. (Than Ryouta.)

It has been months. Ryouta visits their graves from time to time, sometimes to pray, sometimes to cry, sometimes to demand impossible, childish things. Ryouta visits Kurokocchi every day, making sure he wakes up and continues on living, even though Ryouta knows his friend would rather not. Ryouta had been the one who washed Kurokocchi's apartment with bleakness, replacing all that is red and blue with grey and white and see-through materials. Ryouta never dresses in red or blue.

There were days when Ryouta stood in front of their graves seeking forgiveness, and they were the days Ryouta previously had had his hands around Kurokocchi's neck or a knife near his own throat. Those days never came back since Kurokocchi has started to sit on his balcony, leaving a space for Ryouta to sit on and talk to him.

Ryouta is still patiently waiting for Kurokocchi to talk back to him, to look at him again and realize that Ryouta is still here, will forever be here with him.

* * *

 **[Fragments of a Dream]**

That day, Tetsuya's dream is full of so many colors, like he's standing still and there are lights running past him in high speed. It suddenly goes dark and there's nothing—he is nothing. In his dream he waits, standing still and unmoving and hopes for his days as a teen with dreams bigger than the world to finally come and let him relive them. But then it is two big hands on his shoulders and Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun are there when he turns. Tetsuya tries to tell them to "Please, let's go back. Let's go home," but Aomine-kun shakes his head and Kagami-kun pats his head instead.

Tetsuya has never spoken so many why's when he is awake, but when he's asleep anything can happen so he keeps repeating that one word, but Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun stay silent. They take his hands in each of theirs, and lead him to a door. When it opens Tetsuya is greeted with warm, yellow sunshine and everything is peaceful. He is suddenly in front of the convenience store from his middle school days, and Kise-kun is bounding up to him all smiles and glittering eyes. Kise-kun gives him his ice cream, and when Tetsuya takes a bite it becomes burger and Kise-kun is in grey school uniform smiling fondly at him. When Tetsuya reaches for his milkshake on the table Kise-kun is beside him on his old navy blue couch watching New Year's quiz show. When Tetsuya takes a sip Kise-kun is kneeling in front of him in his bleak, white kitchen, wiping tears off his cheek murmuring, endlessly:

" _Shh, Kurokocchi, I'm here."_

* * *

 **[…and Reality]**

Ryouta panics when Kurokocchi starts crying in his sleep, pale face contorted painfully and it claws at Ryouta that he's powerless to stop it. So Ryouta climbs on the bed and hugs Kurokocchi close, gathering his shaking and weeping body into his arms and murmuring, "Shh, Kurokocchi, I'm here."

The tremors doesn't immediately stop, but Ryouta is determined in doing what he can, and he still hasn't stopped murmuring even when Kurokocchi calms. The crook of his neck is wet with cooling tears, his mouth dry from the non-stop flow of reassurances. Ryouta is still murmuring, but now with a gravelly voice, still running his hands on Kurokocchi's back, when a familiar, long gone voice calls out, "Kise-kun?"

Ryouta doesn't believe his ears—after the accident Ryouta has lost the confidence to believe in good things. So he tightens his hold on Kurokocchi and kisses his temple and wets the soft blue hair there and the pillow with his own tears. "Kurokocchi, I'm here, I'm here."

But then the small, bony man in his arms moves, and Ryouta is at a loss. Kurokocchi draws back from his hold and sits up and looks at him. Really _looks_ at _him_ , at Ryouta's pathetic teary face and not at ghosts from inside his head. Another stream of tears bursts out from those beautiful, beautiful blue eyes, and Kurokocchi wipes at them on his own, and then reaches for Ryouta's face. "Kise-kun."

"Kurokocchi…?" Ryouta croaks and he almost, almost laughs because why is it when Kurokocchi comes back he's crying and not welcoming him home with a smile.

"I… I'm here, Kise-kun, with you," Kurokocchi says, voice breaking and uneven from disuse, but Ryouta's heart soars nonetheless, and there's hope in the starry sky of dawn between the gaps of the curtains.

Ryouta sits up and his arms are greedily enveloping Kurokocchi, so close, so close and real and awake and alive and "You're back. Welcome back, Kurokocchi. I missed you so much."

"Yes," Kurokocchi says to his neck, and Ryouta is, too, enveloped strongly in smaller arms. "Yes, Kise-kun. I'm here, you're here, thank you… Thank you for being with me."

 _Thank you for keeping the fragments of my dream and reality._

* * *

 **Cross-posted from AO3**

 **A/N:** I don't even know what I just wrote I am deeply sorry. My KiKuro feels are on the angsty side. I promise I'm coming up with happier ones. Well, here's a box of tissue. Or do you want to make use of this cutter here to inflict injury upon me? :'D


End file.
